


5 Times Merlin Looked Fantastic, and 1 Time Arthur Did Something About It

by lemoncellbros



Series: Merlin [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), POV Gwen (Merlin), POV Merlin (Merlin), i blazed through that shit, listen i have no idea what i just wrote, no editing process we die like men, pls enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoncellbros/pseuds/lemoncellbros
Summary: After confessing his feelings for Merlin to Morgana at the Rising Sun, Arthur hopes that she'll forget.She doesn't intend to.Meanwhile, Merlin is wondering why Morgana has bought him all these new clothes, and why he has to save purple for last.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840279
Comments: 30
Kudos: 371





	5 Times Merlin Looked Fantastic, and 1 Time Arthur Did Something About It

Prologue: 

Gwen gasped. On the bed, Morgana had dumped a week’s worth of clothes, all in gorgeous colours and expensive fabrics. 

The king’s ward smiled, mischief written all over her face. “What do you think?” 

Gwen gently touched a particularly lovely blue shirt. The fabric was soft to the touch.   
“They’re beautiful, but…when you said you were going to get Merlin some new clothes, this isn’t what I imagined.” 

Morgana’s smirk only grew. “Exactly, Gwen. No one could ever imagine Merlin wearing something like this. After all, servants aren’t supposed to own expensive things.” 

Gwen’s confusion only grew. “I don’t understand.” 

“Arthur came to speak with me last night,” she said casually, beginning to fold the items and smooth out the wrinkles. “It seems he has a crush.” 

Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The royal family of Arboria had been visiting for at least a month, but she hadn’t expected Arthur to actually fall in love with their princess. She was attractive, sure, but her personality was equivalent to that of a brick. She’d hoped that Arthur wasn’t that shallow. 

“Oh?” She said, trying to keep a neutral tone. 

Morgana grinned and arranged the clothes on her table. “Indeed.” 

“And who might it be?” Gwen asked. She knew that Morgana was drawing out the gossip for dramatic effect, but she wished it could just be over with. Once Merlin found out about this, he’d be furious. 

Morgana said nothing, only raised her eyebrow and gestured to the pile of clothes. 

Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed together. Was putting Merlin in better clothes a way to impress the princess? Or was it a way to draw Arthur’s attention away from her? Was Merlin meant to be a distraction? 

Oh. That’s exactly what he was meant to be. 

“Merlin?” Gwen felt as though she’d drank sunshine. She’d suspected that Merlin had feelings for Arthur, and if she was right, then this could be the best week of his life. 

Morgana hmm-ed in agreement. “He should be here any second.” 

Sure enough, a knock came clanging at the door. The two women exchanged thrilled glances, and Morgana went to open the door. 

“Merlin!” Gwen heard Morgana say, voice bright and merry. “How wonderful of you to join us. Please, come in.” 

Poor Merlin looked rather haggard as he stumbled into the room. 

Gwen giggled. “Something wrong?” 

“Arthur’s been running me ragged all day. Clean the stables, Merlin, polish my armour, Merlin, sweep the hallway in front of my chambers, Merlin, get me more breakfast, Merlin, I’m starving,” Merlin’s voice raised arrogantly in an imitation of the prince. 

Behind him, Morgana laughed. “I’m sorry about him. He never learned his manners.” 

Merlin nodded in exhausted agreement. “Believe me, I know.” 

“Hopefully these will make your day better.” Morgana picked up the pile of clothes and deposited them in Merlin’s arms. 

He looked rather confused. “More clothes for Arthur? Why would that make me feel better?” 

Morgana only smiled. “Don’t be silly, Merlin. They’re for you.” 

“Me?” Merlin set down the pile and picked up a green jacket. “But…they’re nice. Really nice. In fact, they’re almost better than Arthur’s.” 

“Well I can’t very well put you in peasant clothes, if you’re to test all these fabrics and colours out for me.” Morgana said genially. Gwen glanced at her, confused. She hadn’t said anything about that. 

“What?” Merlin glanced up from examining the jacket. 

Morgana laughed, a perfect lady. “Don’t you agree that we look rather similar, Merlin?” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess-“ 

“Precisely. We have the same skin tone, hair, and eye colour. I’ve been wanting to try out all of these different colours and styles, but the risk of them looking awful is too great. The king’s ward has to look perfect, after all.” Morgana shrugged, as though it was an irritating, but necessary task. “So, I was hoping you’d try them out this week. That way I’ll know for certain without embarrassing myself.” 

Ah, Gwen understood. Merlin couldn’t know that the true reason was to mess with Arthur. Not only that, but he was bound to be asked questions. If he explained that it was by request of the Lady Morgana, suspicions would quickly falter. 

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked.

Morgana nodded simply. “Of course. Though I do have one request.” 

Merlin took the pile of clothes in his arms. “What is it?” 

“Save the purple for the end of the week,” she said. 

Merlin seemed confused by that, but he agreed all the same, and soon enough he was out the door and on his way to his chambers. 

Gwen glanced curiously at Morgana. “Why should he wear purple at the end of the week?” 

At that, Morgana smirked, mischief in her eyes. “Always save the best for last.” 

***  
1:

Monday came with a chill in the air and muted sunlight. 

Merlin groaned and rolled out of bed at dawn. He had to wake Arthur up early for a council meeting about grain exports. He almost made for his usual neckerchief-and-tunic combo, but then he saw the pile of beautiful clothes on his chair. Morgana’s request was strange, for certain, but Merlin wasn’t keen on causing a fashion faux-pas. So, he examined the items. 

There were 6 of them, all made up of blues, greens, and purples. Merlin ran his hand along a lace-up blue tunic with red embroidery at the hem. It would be the closest thing to his normal outfit. Maybe if he eased into it, he wouldn’t feel so weird about walking around like a nobleman. 

Cautiously, he pulled the tunic over his head. He wished he had a mirror to see what he looked like. Still, the fabric was warm, far more than his typical wardrobe. He wouldn’t even need the jacket or the neckerchief today. 

Gaius wasn’t awake yet, so Merlin made his way quietly out the door, grabbing a piece of bread from last night’s dinner. Hopefully his change in fashion wouldn’t be too noticeable to Arthur. As he walked down to the kitchens, though, servants gave him odd looks when he passed them by. 

Great. One day into Morgana’s weird plan, and the least outrageous of the outfits was already meriting confusion. 

He ignored the glances as he walked up to Arthur’s chambers with a plate full of bread, fruits, and cheese. As he usually did on early mornings such as these, Merlin snuck a bite of one of the cheeses. He had no idea what kind it was, but it was excellent. As always. A few familiar steps later, and Merlin was throwing open the curtains. 

“Rise and shine!” He said cheerfully, trying to ignore the lump in his throat at the thought of Arthur making fun of his clothes. Somehow, that was the one area they hadn’t managed to joke about. Now he’d never be safe. 

Arthur groaned and attempted to stuff his face in his pillow. Merlin, quick as ever, pulled it out from under him. The prince’s head came down hard on bare mattress, and he hissed and lurched up into a sitting position, grabbing Merlin by his collar. 

“Merlin-“ He started, but paused. He looked down at what he was holding. 

Merlin stifled a laugh. Obviously the prince had been expecting a neckerchief. Arthur’s look of utter bewilderment was so hilarious that Merlin was sure he’d be stuck in that shocked position all morning. 

“Merlin.” He said again, quieter, but thick with confusion, “what are you wearing?” 

“A tunic, sire?” Merlin’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“I know that!” Arthur glared at him and spun him around in a circle. 

Merlin raised a deadpan eyebrow at him. “Taking my measurements, are you?” 

Arthur released him with a huff and hopped out of bed. “No, Merlin. Just confused as to why anyone would buy you a present. It’s not as though your looks can be improved upon by your clothing.” 

Merlin chuckled softly and handed Arthur the plate of food. “You must know from personal experience.” 

Arthur’s eyes widened through a bite of bread. Merlin just grinned and grabbed his favourite red shirt from his wardrobe. He knew the prince hated council meetings, and he figured the shirt would make him feel more at home. Steadfastly, he tried not to focus on how…caring that sounded. He was just observant, that was all. Nothing to it. 

Once Arthur was done with his breakfast, he held his arms expectantly in the air. Merlin rolled his eyes, but pulled the shirt over his head nonetheless. Quickly, he helped Arthur with his trousers as well, lacing up both as properly as he could. The whole dressing part of his job was perhaps the most excruciating. Because it was embarrassing and uncomfortable, of course. Not because of any other reason. 

Without another word, the two of them walked out and down to the throne room, where the meeting would be held. Merlin had already resigned himself to a morning of pouring water and handing grapes to droning nobles. Arthur, he was certain, was already coming up with the best ways to pretend like he was listening. 

Arthur pushed open the huge wooden doors, and sure enough, a room full of old men awaited them. Merlin sighed quietly. This was going to be awful. 

From the head of the table, Uther did a double take as Merlin walked past him.   
“Boy,” he called. 

Merlin’s eyes widened. Shit. He turned around to face him. “Yes, my lord?” 

Uther tilted his head and squinted, as though examining him. “Who gave you those clothes?” 

Merlin decided on honesty. Hopefully, since it was Morgana, he’d get a free pass.   
“Morgana, sire. She wanted to test out colours and fabrics on me, since we look so similar.” 

The king let out a good-natured laugh and turned to his counsellors, seemingly dismissing Merlin from his attention. “Ladies and their clothes.” 

The other counsellors laughed agreeably, aside from Arthur, whose face had gone bright red at the mention of Morgana’s doings. He glanced over at Merlin. The servant waved back, and he quickly returned his eyes to the table. Merlin’s eyes narrowed. That was strange. 

It went on like that for the rest of the four-hour meeting, with Arthur throwing glances at Merlin and Merlin pretending like he hadn’t noticed. When it was finally over, both of them rushed out of the throne room, eager to get away from the dull conversation. 

Once back in Arthur’s chambers, the prince stripped down to his smallclothes. 

“My gods, that was mind-numbing. Run me a bath, will you?” 

Merlin nodded, forcing himself to look away from Arthur. Once he’d gotten the hot water, he poured it into the giant metal tub and placed a towel over half of it. It was meant for modesty, since servants often helped their masters with bathing. 

Without warning, Arthur’s red shirt flew into Merlin’s face, obscuring his vision. 

“Excellent catch, Merlin,” he heard Arthur say as he got into the tub. 

Merlin rolled his eyes and tossed the shirt onto the floor. “Thank you, sire.” 

“Did Morgana actually give you those clothes?” Arthur asked. He motioned for Merlin to get the soap from the washbasin, which he did.

Merlin shrugged. “Yes. She was pretty intent on it.”

Arthur nodded casually, but Merlin could tell from his shoulders that he was anxious. Merlin handed him the bar of soap.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, sire?” 

Arthur’s face turned red (from heat, probably), but he acted as though nothing had happened.   
“Well that is your job, isn’t it?” 

“Right.” Merlin let out a quiet huff and lathered the soap in his hands, then went to scrub Arthur’s scalp. 

Secretly, this was one of his favourite things to do as the prince’s manservant. Arthur’s hair was soft and thick, and it felt good to run his hands through it. Not that it was only Arthur’s hair that he enjoyed washing. He washed his own, and that was…fine. Arthur’s hair wasn’t special. It just happened to be very nice to the touch. 

Arthur let out a small sigh and leaned into Merlin’s touch. Merlin felt his own face go red. Clearly, the prince was tired. Otherwise he would never do that. 

Ignoring his own embarrassment, Merlin continued to rub the soap into the blonde hair. It was admittedly rather peaceful. The slight heat from the bath, the cool air, the sounds of servants making their rounds outside, and the fresh smell of the soap all made Merlin feel relaxed. He enjoyed these quiet moments with Arthur, outside of their banter (though he did enjoy that, too). Sometimes, it felt nice to just be with him. 

When he was finally done, he wasn’t very eager to interrupt the silence. Still, he had to. 

“You can rinse your hair now,” he murmured. 

Arthur startled a little, obviously woken from a trance of his own. He nodded and ducked below the surface. Merlin watched as tendrils of soap and bubbles spilled out from his hair and into the water. It was a strangely ethereal image. 

When Arthur came back up, he glanced back at Merlin.

“Is that the only outfit Morgana’s given you?” He asked quietly.

Merlin shook his head, not quite understanding why Arthur wanted to know. “There are four more.” 

Arthur’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a second, but soon returned to a bored expression.   
“I see.” 

***

2: 

“Morgana!” Arthur yelled, not even bothering to knock on the door. 

He never should’ve let her get him drunk at The Rising Sun. Seeing Merlin today had nearly killed him, and finding out it was her doing, and that there were four more outfits, was like connecting the pieces in the world’s worst puzzle. 

Morgana and Gwen jumped from their place at her vanity. Gwen looked as though she was about to throw a silver hairbrush at him, while Morgana had tensed up like a black cat. She turned slowly in her chair, fixing him with a withering glare. 

“Yes, Arthur?” 

“You did this on purpose,” he started, slamming the door behind him. She and Gwen exchanged a quick glance, and she got to her feet. She cut an imposing figure. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Arthur glared at her. “Oh, yes you do. Merlin told me that you gave him some new outfits to try on.”

“Oh, that.” Morgana smiled, innocent as a lamb. “Yes, I did. I thought the boy could use some new clothes.” 

“Liar.” Arthur whispered dangerously. “I told you at The Rising Sun, and now you’re determined to make my life a waking nightmare.” 

“I don’t see how it could be a nightmare,” Morgana said without concern as Gwen handed her a washcloth, “after all, you have feelings for him, do you not? Wouldn’t seeing him in clothes that are actually meant to suit him make you…happy?” 

She intentionally put a slight emphasis on ‘happy’, causing Gwen to burst out in giggles. Arthur shot daggers at both of them, and Gwen quickly quieted down. 

“It would if I wasn’t the prince of Camelot, Morgana,” he hissed. “It would be different.” 

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Please, Arthur. Uther doesn’t pay attention to either of us long enough to find out who we’re interested in.” 

Arthur couldn’t help but flinch a little at that. He knew Morgana was right, but he still hated hearing it. As naïve as it seemed, he liked to believe that his father cared about them. That he would notice, even if, in this case, noticing led to horrible consequences.

Gwen, who seemed rather good at reading emotions, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.   
“Merlin doesn’t actually know why he’s been given the clothes, sire. Morgana isn’t that cruel.” 

At this, Morgana shrugged, as though she had thought about it. 

Arthur sighed. “I know. But it’s still not right. It’s clear Merlin has no feelings for me. Making him more attractive to me, when he would be uncomfortable if he knew, is only cruel.” 

At this, Morgana actually laughed. “Right, Merlin has no feelings for you at all.” 

Gwen smiled a little at that, despite the pout on Arthur’s face. “I wouldn’t be so quick to assume, sire.” 

Arthur shook his head. “No, I’m certain. If he had feelings for me, I would know it.” 

“I’m sure you would,” Morgana said, voice thick with sarcasm. “For now, though, the sun’s almost up. You wouldn’t want Merlin knowing where you’ve been.” 

Arthur nodded. She was right. Merlin had to think he had been sleeping. “Alright. I’ll see you at dinner, Morgana. Gwen.” 

The two nodded to him politely, and he crept out of the door and back to his chambers. He hid his clothes and crawled under the covers. Within an hour, he heard the familiar sound of Merlin creeping into the room, and then the awful brightness of the sun in his eyes. 

“Rise and shine!” Merlin said cheerfully. 

Arthur was almost scared to open his eyes. Morgana had an impeccable sense of fashion. She’d know how to dress Merlin to appeal to him, and that would certainly mean torture for the rest of the week. 

Merlin shook Arthur’s shoulders, and he groaned quietly and opened his eyes. 

Shit. 

He had never seen Merlin in green before, and dear gods, he was stunning. Once again, the neckerchief was gone. He was wearing a green jacket with tiny silver acorn buttons and a black lining. Underneath that was a white tunic that he’d never seen. Merlin beamed at him, and Arthur’s stomach flipped (in agreement or protest, he couldn’t tell). 

“You’ve got training with the knights today, sire. Up and at ‘em!” 

Arthur forced himself to scowl at him, and got out of bed. They went through their typical morning routine-breakfast, clothes, arguing-and soon were out the door. 

“I see you’re wearing another one of Morgana’s things,” Arthur said, attempting casual as they walked through the halls. 

Merlin shrugged and pulled at his sleeves self-consciously. “I’m not sure how to feel about this one.” 

“And why is that?” Arthur had to admit, he was curious to know. 

Merlin’s nose went into a slight scrunch (an expression that never failed to make Arthur melt).   
“It’s just…green? I’ve never owned anything green, and I don’t have a mirror. I’m afraid I look ridiculous.” 

Well, Arthur would definitely have to get him a mirror. Merlin deserved to see how amazing he looked. 

“You always look ridiculous, Merlin, I wouldn’t worry about it.” He smiled at him, and Merlin rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you soooo much for the reassurance, sire,” He grinned. 

“Anytime.” Arthur smiled again, but more to himself than anything. 

At training, Merlin was highly praised by the knights. Leon gave him a pat on the back. 

“Outdressing the prince is a difficult task, but you’ve managed it well,” he said jokingly. 

Arthur pretended to be insulted by this, but it was true. He could never hope to look the way Merlin did in those clothes. 

Merlin only grinned as he grabbed the shields and handed them to the knights.   
“I’ve got Morgana to thank. Maybe if Arthur tried on one of her gowns, he’d be competition for me.” 

At this, the knights roared with laughter. Arthur smirked. Little did Merlin know of the time he’d actually done that at age four. As it turned out, yellow was not a good colour on him. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, making sure to carry a quiet threat in his voice, “would you like to help us train today?” 

Merlin’s face visibly fell. “Do I have a choice?” 

Arthur smiled and twirled his sword. “I don’t think so.” 

The rest of the knights laughed and cheered as Merlin put on some armour and acted as an opponent for Arthur. They had an odd number today, so it would’ve had to happen anyway. Arthur swung at Merlin, who actually managed to block the sword with a shield. Arthur felt his heart leap into his throat with something like pride or attraction. 

“Very good, Merlin.” 

“Thank you, sire,” Merlin grunted, and attempted to swing at him. Arthur easily sidestepped the blow. 

“Hold on, stop.” Arthur gently grabbed Merlin’s forearm, and he distinctly heard the servant’s breath catch. “You’re not holding it correctly. Let me show you.” 

“Here,” he said, guiding Merlin’s hand into the right position. “See, your thumb should be here, and you shouldn’t grip it so tightly. That causes tension in your arm, and it’s not good for fighting.” 

Even through the helmet, he could hear Merlin’s breathing. His eyes were wide. Arthur swallowed. 

“Right, well. There you are.” 

He stepped back into position, and soon enough they were sparring again. 

He didn’t think he’d get through this week alive. 

***

3: 

Merlin had to admit, he was starting to enjoy wearing these clothes. Yesterday had actually been pretty fun. He’d kind of liked picking which tunic to wear under the green jacket. He’d never really put much effort into what he wore, only remembering to contrast his tunic and neckerchief so he didn’t look too monotone. But now…well, if he ever got to come out as a warlock, he’d be stepping up his outfit game. He wanted his outsides to reflect his insides. 

Was that weird? Maybe. 

For today, he and Gwen were accompanying Arthur and Morgana on a picnic in the forest with their father. Considering the fact that it rained quite a bit in the afternoons, Merlin picked out a detailed blue and silver half-cape thing (capelet?) and a red under-tunic. He hoped that it wouldn’t be too extravagant. After all, he wasn’t too keen on Uther analysing his outfit choices again. 

Merlin stepped out of his room and grabbed a pastry Gwen had dropped off that morning, passing Gaius on the way. The physician went to nod to him as a greeting, but did a double take. 

“Merlin,” he said, amusement etched into his voice, “what are you wearing?” 

Merlin felt his face flush. “Is it too much? I’m trying on these outfits for Morgana.” 

“Well, it’s certainly something.” Gaius smiled at him over the rim of his glasses. “Are you sure you’re not trying to impress anybody?” 

“What? No,” Merlin shook his head adamantly. He laughed and spun in a goofy circle. “Who would be impressed by this?” 

Gaius shrugged. “Haven’t a clue.” 

“Right.” Merlin swung open the door, grabbing a pouch for herbs. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Indeed. Get me some peppermint, if you can find it,” Gaius said, and Merlin nodded and shut the door. 

When he arrived at Arthur’s room, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. The rest of the castle seemed to have grown used to his strange outfits as of late, but the prince was different. He always noticed every new thing about Merlin. It was a wonder he’d kept his magic secret for so long. Despite the anxiety, though, he plunged ahead. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Merlin said happily as he threw open the curtains. He’d been thinking of new phrases. 

Arthur sat up in bed and fixed him with a bleary-eyed glare. “You sound like a mother.” 

Merlin grinned. “I’d consider that a compliment.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, but they quickly stopped to pause and take in Merlin’s outfit. If Merlin was newer to Arthur’s moods, he would’ve thought the redness that rose in his face odd. It wasn’t strange, though. Arthur was a habitual blusher. That he saw, at least. 

He tried not to think that it could mean anything more. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, treading carefully, “what are you wearing?” 

It was Merlin’s turn to blush. “Er…clothes from Morgana.” 

Arthur stood up abruptly and marched over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Morgana gave you this cape thing?” 

“Yes?” Merlin answered, a bit confused (and trying not to notice Arthur’s very barely-clothed body in front of him). 

Arthur made a sound like a growl in the back of his throat. “That harpy.” 

Merlin felt an uncomfortable crawl of embarrassment. “I knew it looked bad.”   
“No!” Arthur’s eyes widened. “No, Merlin, it’s not bad at all. It’s just…different.” 

“Different is another word for bad in your book, I think,” Merlin said, and started to remove the capelet. 

Quickly, Arthur clasped Merlin’s hands to stop him. “It’s not this time. I promise.” 

Merlin desperately ignored the warmth in Arthur’s hands and the callouses that grazed his fingers. “If you say so. If I show up to the picnic and your father laughs at me, I’ll kill you.” 

Arthur smiled. “That’s treason.” 

“Light treason.” Merlin shrugged and took his hands back, trying to make it seem like he’d forgotten they were even there. “Come on. Let’s get you ready.” 

They met Morgana, Gwen, and Uther in front of the palace, where horses were waiting for them. Gwen’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull when she saw Merlin. After they’d both helped Arthur and Morgana onto their horses, she ran over to him and patted him approvingly on the shoulder. 

“You look good,” she whispered. “Can I borrow that?” 

Merlin laughed, and soon enough they were riding off into the forest. 

After setting up the picnic for the royal family, Merlin and Gwen attended to the horses while Uther and Arthur chatted about grain exports. 

“How are you feeling about the clothes Morgana gave you?” Gwen asked as she fed her horse an apple.

Merlin smiled a little. “I didn’t think I’d like them, but I do. They make me feel…I dunno. Like my outsides reflect my insides.” 

Gwen nodded happily as she passed him some water. “I’m glad. They look really nice on you, Merlin. I’m glad she’s giving you the chance to try something new.” 

“Thank you, Gwen,” Merlin smiled at her, bigger this time. Before they could continue the conversation, however-

“Boy!” Uther called. “Come here.” 

Merlin felt that familiar sickening sensation creep down his spine. He gave Gwen a fearful look, but turned and quickly walked over to the picnic blanket. He bowed, though he hated doing it.   
“Yes, my lord?” 

“Did our dear Morgana pick out this outfit for you as well?” He asked cheerily. From behind him, he saw the ward’s jaw clench. She gave Merlin a brief nod. 

“Yes, my lord,” Merlin replied. He was trying to keep his tone level and neutral, but it was difficult. 

Uther smiled. “I’m afraid she may be playing a joke on you, boy.” 

Merlin pretended to look confused, instead of furious. “I’m not sure what you mean, your majesty.” 

“Well, the first two outfits were rather outside your status, of course, but this…” Uther laughed incredulously, “This is just absurd. I mean really, Morgana, a colour that rich, and with that design? You’re humiliating the poor boy.” 

Merlin could see Arthur tense. “Father, I’m sure Morgana just wanted to test out the design. I don’t think she meant any harm.” 

“Please, Arthur, she’s far too intelligent for that.” Uther smiled at Merlin. “It’s not your fault, boy. I doubt you can even tell the difference between your clothes and a noble’s.” 

Merlin forced himself to nod and to keep his expression neutral. “Yes, my lord.” 

Uther continued to smile, completely oblivious to anyone but himself. “You’re dismissed.” 

Merlin bowed again. As soon as he turned around and was out of sight of the king, he made a face of utter rage and frustration for Gwen to see. She only shook her head slightly, though with a smile on her face so as not to cause an issue. He stalked over to her, barely holding back fury. 

“How dare he?” He hissed quietly, making sure that no one could hear him. 

Gwen tilted her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he thinks it’s very funny.” 

“Obviously,” Merlin whispered back. 

When they were finally back at the castle, Merlin welcomed the ability to follow Arthur into his chambers and far away from the king. As soon as they were inside, he immediately began cleaning up the room as he stewed in his anger. He stormed about the room, putting away boots and dusting drawers and plates. Accidentally, in his typical clumsiness, he managed to knock a vase off of a shelf. It went clattering to the floor and smashed into little pieces. 

“Argh!” Merlin kicked the remains of the vase. If Arthur knew about his magic, he could just fix the damn thing, but no. He could never know. Because of his damned father. 

“Merlin!” Arthur rushed over to him at the sound. He glared down at the pieces. “That was a royal family heirloom, you know-“ 

He paused. Merlin’s frustration had caused tears to start flooding out uncontrollably. Panicked, he wiped at them with the sleeve of his tunic, then remembered what had caused all of this and threw his capelet to the floor. 

“Merlin.” Arthur gently took hold of his arms, trying to steady him. “It’s alright, it’s just a vase. We’ll replace it tomorrow. Father won’t even know the difference.” 

“Just like I don’t know the difference between my clothing and yours, right?” Merlin choked out. His anger was bubbling up to the surface now. If he wasn’t careful, something else was going to explode. 

Arthur’s face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry about that, I don’t know what possessed him to say that to you.” 

“I’m not stupid, you know.” Merlin said quietly. “I know I’m clumsy and I don’t really know how to do my job, but I’m not stupid. I’m not an oaf.”

Arthur sighed. “Merlin, when I say those things to you, I don’t mean them literally. I mean, yes, you trip over your feet quite a bit, but my armour shines every morning, and I’m never late for meetings. You’re not nearly as bad as I often tell you. I’m…sorry.” 

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “Never thought I’d hear the great Prince of Camelot apologise for something.” 

Arthur grinned. “As far as I’m concerned, I never did.” 

“Of course.” Merlin smiled a little and wiped another tear away. “I’ll clean this up.” 

“Alright.” Arthur patted him on the back. “And Merlin?” 

“Yes?” 

“I know you’re not stupid.” 

***

4: 

Arthur rolled over sleepily, only to come face to face with a grinning Merlin. 

“Good morning, sire.” 

Arthur cried out and fell out of bed, right on top of his servant. “Merlin!” 

“Well you said to try something different than rise and shine!” Came the muffled reply from under him. 

“That doesn’t mean you scare me!” Arthur growled, and untangled himself from his sheets (and Merlin). 

“Sorry, sire,” Merlin stumbled to his feet, slightly out of breath, and Arthur nearly had a heart attack. 

It was a simple tunic this time, but that didn’t stop his pulse from hammering. 

Merlin was wearing a green tunic that brought out his eyes, accentuated with his usual brown belt. Not only that, but there weren’t any laces at the neckline. It was just a straight ‘v’. 

Arthur felt like he might pass out. 

He didn’t know why this tunic had such an effect on him, but it was different from all the others. Maybe it was because it was so simple, and he didn’t have to focus on any intricate designs. Maybe it was because it was similar to his typical outfit. Or maybe he’d never taken the time to appreciate Merlin in green. He was certain that was the one. 

Now, he was rather determined to spend the rest of the day doing just that. The bright, forest green made his blue eyes glimmer a little more than normal, and his black hair and pale skin were a clear contrast. Everything about him seemed sharper than normal, like Arthur had taken off grey glasses and was being met with a new, colourful world. 

Just then, he realised that Merlin had been talking. 

“Sire? Do you want to wear blue, or white?” 

Arthur snapped out of staring at his servant to actually respond to him. “Um. Yes.” 

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Did you hear what I said?” 

“Of course I did, Merlin. Don’t be ridiculous.” Arthur jutted his chin out in what he hoped was a regal pose. “But if I didn’t, hypothetically, would you repeat the question?” 

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I said, do you want to wear blue or white?” 

“White. Father’s arranged a brunch meeting with the princess of Arboria and I today. I’ll take the colour that is, hopefully, the least attractive.” Arthur felt a sting of irritation. The princess (Georgia? Georgina? Georgette?) was nice enough, if not boring as sand, but he was sick of his father trying to match them together. He wasn’t ready to get married. And even if he was, he already knew who it would be. 

Merlin huffed and pulled the shirt over his head. “Please. At least you can wear white without it washing you out. I look like a ghost when I try and wear it.” 

Both of them stopped what they were doing. Arthur raised his eyebrows, and Merlin turned a bit red. 

He coughed. “Sorry. I might be talking to Morgana too much.” 

Arthur nodded, not quite knowing what to make of that. “I take it she’s giving you fashion tips as well as clothes?” 

“It sort of happened by accident.” Merlin helped Arthur into his boots-the prince’s balance was famously awful. “She kept calling me in to see my outfit of the day, and she’d make a few comments. When I wore white with that green jacket on Tuesday, she was very impressed. Said it was smart that I layered a colour over it. That’s when the whole washing out thing was brought up.” 

Arthur suppressed a laugh. Imagining Merlin and Morgana chatting over the right and wrong colours to wear was simply hilarious. “She’s certainly training you well. Do you think she’d have any advice for me?” 

Merlin grinned and stepped back, as though examining him. “Hmm. I think she’d say that blue is the best colour on you. It brings out your eyes.” 

Arthur felt a small jolt of surprise. Merlin noticed his eyes? Was that romantic? He couldn’t tell. 

“Red is good, too. It contrasts nicely with your hair,” he muttered, a smile breaking through. 

Arthur chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I wonder…” In an instant, Merlin had taken off his tunic and was holding it up to Arthur’s face. Arthur could smell a bit of pine on the fabric, and he resisted the urge to take in a deep inhale. He was also resisting the urge to stare at Merlin. 

Merlin made a ‘hmm’ noise. “I think a more muted green would look good on you. Maybe something darker than this.” 

And, just as quickly as it had been taken off, Merlin put it right back on. Arthur blushed and looked away. He’d never admit it, but he was rather shy about things like nudity. It had always embarrassed him, for some reason. He didn’t know why. 

“Right then.” Merlin quickly brushed off Arthur’s shirt, as though there was invisible dirt on him. “Your princess awaits, sire.” 

Arthur laughed loudly at that, and Merlin quickly joined him. Somewhere deep down, both of them knew why the thought of him marrying Georgia was hilarious. 

Within a few minutes, he and Merlin were on horses, he beside Georgia on their way to a waterfall. Apparently, his father had chosen it for ‘aesthetic purposes’. He could’ve puked right then and there. On the way there, he tried to strike up conversation (for the sake of being able to say he tried), but Georgia never reciprocated. She seemed as disinterested in Arthur as he was with her. 

When they arrived, Arthur knew why his father had picked the location. It was secluded, well out of the way of Camelot, and the waterfall was rather loud. Clearly, the king was anticipating something more than just brunch. Arthur glanced back at Merlin, who was grinning. He obviously understood the implication of the setting. 

Arthur dismounted his horse and helped Georgia off of hers. “I’m sorry about the noise. We can find somewhere else, if you’d prefer.” 

Georgia shrugged. “I don’t really care.” 

Arthur waited for some more explanation, but none came. “Alright. Well, I’m going to go help my servant set up everything.” 

Georgia only nodded. 

Arthur walked back over to Merlin, rolling his eyes once he was sure Georgia couldn’t see. “You’ve got to help me, Merlin. I can’t survive an afternoon with this girl.” 

Merlin snickered and handed him the basket of food. “Is she really that bad?” 

“She’s not bad, she’s just boring. I feel like I’m talking to the colour grey.”   
Merlin snorted. “I’ll do my best to help you, sire.”   
Arthur patted his shoulder gratefully, and the two of them returned to the clearing. Soon, everything was set up. The food looked absolutely delicious, and Arthur’s stomach growled quietly. He hadn’t had breakfast. Come to think of it…

“Merlin?” He whispered. “Have you had food yet today?”  
Merlin’s face twisted into an uncomfortable frown. “You don’t have to give me anything, sire.” 

“Oh, yes I do. You’re eating, and that’s by order of the Prince of Camelot.” Arthur pulled Merlin down to the blanket with him, then called over Georgia. 

The princess sat quietly and began eating an apple pastry. Arthur handed Merlin a piece of buttered toast, then glared at him when he tried to push it away. They all ate in awkward silence for a while, listening to the waterfall rushing down. 

“So,” Merlin started, “what’s Arboria like?” 

Georgia looked at him in confusion. “Arboria?” 

“Yes,” Merlin said with a smile. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful.” 

For the first time in all the months she’d been here, Arthur saw Georgia smile.   
“It is,” she said happily. “Lots of trees. Especially pine. Those are my favourite. They have such a wonderful scent.” 

Merlin nodded along and took another bite of toast. “Absolutely. Gaius washes our clothing with little pine sprigs. I think he likes the smell too.” 

Georgia grinned. “That’s a lovely idea! I’ll have to tell it to the launders back home.” 

Arthur smiled a little to himself. Merlin had such a way with people. In the seconds since he’d met Georgia, she was already more at home with him than she’d ever be with Arthur. 

“You’re the prince’s servant, correct?” She asked politely. 

Merlin smiled. “Yep.” 

“What’s it like?” To her credit, she seemed genuinely curious. “Sometimes I think about what I would’ve been like if I wasn’t born a princess. Of course I’m grateful for everything I have, but it can be a bit stifling sometimes.” 

“I know what you mean,” Arthur said quietly. 

The two turned their attention to him, and he coughed awkwardly. 

“It’s just…it is quite stifling. I think if I were a peasant, I would go and live in a cottage in the forest. Maybe I’d have some goats. Honey. Of course I’d take Merlin with me,” He laughed, throwing an arm around his servant’s shoulders. He completely missed the way Merlin looked at him at the comment. 

Georgia grinned. “It’s so wonderful that you two are close. You’re both quite lucky to have each other. I know many people who don’t even know their servant’s name.” 

Merlin scowled. “I hate people like that. We work for you and bring you food and wash your clothes, and you can’t even bother to remember our names? It seems like common courtesy.” 

“I absolutely agree,” Georgia nodded adamantly. “It’s the least we can do to thank you for your help.” 

Arthur smiled at the exchange. Merlin and Georgia were really hitting it off. It was nice to see Merlin talking so comfortably with another person. While they were chatting, he took the opportunity to truly look at him. In the green, he almost seemed to blend into the forest around him, like one of the fae. He was laughing, and there was an energy that almost seemed to glow from him, like magic but good. It was almost ethereal. 

Georgia was right. He was lucky to have Merlin. 

***

5: 

Friday dawned bright and warm, and Merlin awoke feeling excited. 

It was finally The Day. The Day that Morgana had warned him to wait for, The Day that he’d secretly been anticipating all week: Purple Day. 

Perhaps it was a bit strange to get excited to wear a certain colour, but he did. Throughout he and Morgana’s meetings during the week, she’d always reminded him to wait to wear the purple. Not only that, but to wear the purple together. It was interesting. She had given him no explanation, no matter how often he’d asked why. Now, the day had finally come to wear the purple. 

Merlin quickly made his bed, then hurried to the chair, where the last two pieces remained. He held up the first. It was a simple, light purple tunic. Nothing very exciting. The second one, however, was the most incredible yet. 

It was a dark purple, almost black, quilted jacket, similar to the blue one he’d seen Arthur wear. It was lined with a lighter purple on the inside, and the buttons were shaped like little black stars. This, he thought, felt like him. The colour was different and magical, and the design made him actually feel like a warlock for once. Hesitantly, but with a thrill, he put on the purple clothes. 

Not for the first time, he desperately wished for a mirror. 

He didn’t let that discourage him, though. He walked out of his room, greeted Gaius (who raised his eyebrows, but said nothing), and made his way to Morgana’s chambers. Arthur didn’t have any appointments today, so he could afford to be a bit late. Quietly, he knocked on the door. 

The door swung open to reveal a smiling Gwen, who gasped when she saw him. 

“You look amazing!” 

She pulled him inside, where Morgana was eagerly sitting on the bed. She, too, gasped. She jumped up and pushed him over to her vanity. 

“Take a look,” she whispered, delight evident in her grin. 

Merlin did, and what greeted him shocked him. 

He looked different. Not a bad different, not a good different, just…different. His hair seemed to blend with the deep purple of the jacket, and his pale skin stuck out like bone against the dark colour. His eyes, especially, looked sharper and brighter. Something about the light purple brought out a faint pink flush in his cheeks and lips, and for some reason, his cheekbones looked a bit more prominent than usual. 

He looked like a sorcerer. An honest to gods, magical, powerful sorcerer. For the first time ever, he felt he was worthy of being called Emrys. If he walked into the Druid camp looking like this, he didn’t doubt that he’d look like what they expected. 

“Purple really is your colour,” Morgana said brightly. As always, there was a slight hint of mischief in her voice. 

Merlin smiled through an exhale, not quite sure what to make of it all. He felt the most like himself that he had since arriving at Camelot. Before he could overthink it, he got to his feet and hugged Morgana. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

Morgana seemed a little taken aback, but she returned the hug nonetheless. “Of course. You deserve to feel like this. That’s how I feel when I wear purple, as well.” 

If Merlin really, truly listened, he could hear the implication in her tone: purple makes me feel like a witch, and it makes you feel like a warlock. Purple is our colour now. 

Merlin pulled away and grinned. Gwen, from next to him, hugged him as well. 

“You really do look incredible. Just wait until Arthur sees,” she said happily. 

And just like that, Merlin’s stomach plummeted. Arthur. If the prince saw a sorcerer too, he was doomed. 

“Don’t worry,” Morgana said, seemingly having guessed his anxieties, “I’m sure he’ll think that it’s…nice.” 

There was another implication there, but Merlin purposely didn’t try to figure it out. Instead, he pulled away from Gwen’s hug and sighed, a bit pleased with all of this. 

“Thank you both. I’ll check in later.” 

And with that, he was out the door. 

***

+1: 

“Rise and shine!” 

Arthur groaned. It was a Friday. He should never have to get out of bed on Fridays. He turned over on his side, away from Merlin’s voice. 

“No,” he muttered grumpily, and he could practically hear Merlin rolling his eyes.

“Come on, oh noble prince. It’s a beautiful day!” 

“You know what else is beautiful? This bed,” Arthur replied snarkily. 

Suddenly, the sheets were pulled off of him, and he jolted with the cold. Angry and freezing and a bit put-out, he sat up. 

Opened his eyes. 

And every single possible threat died in his throat. 

Merlin was there, standing casually as though nothing was wrong, with his arms folded over his chest and a stern, slightly mischievous expression on his face. What he was wearing was the issue. At first, all Arthur registered was purple. Then, he picked out the details of the jacket and the tunic. And then, finally, he put those details together with the details of Merlin, and gods. He looked powerful, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and like he could break Arthur in half while smiling about it. But he also looked kind, and funny, and so utterly and wonderfully Merlin that Arthur nearly gasped with the shock of it. 

He shivered. “You’re…” 

“Yes?” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “I’m a clotpole for waking you up?” 

“No, no.” Arthur got to his feet, not quite sure of what he was doing but hoping desperately that he would find it along the way. “You’re…” 

“A cabbagehead? A clumsy excuse for a servant? The personification of evil on earth? All things you’ve called me during your morning rousing hours,” Merlin opened his arms, in a gesture of ‘hit me’. 

Arthur squinted at him. It was still his Merlin, but amplified. Every movement, every expression and word from his mouth, was impossible to ignore. It sent waves across the room. Arthur walked closer, and he saw Merlin tense a little. 

“You’re…” He struggled for the right word. Then, he found it, in the definitions of childhood mermaids and fairies. “You’re magical.”

Merlin’s breath caught, and panic set in behind his eyes. “What?” 

“Yes, that’s it.” Arthur smiled. He’d finally figured out the puzzle. “You’re magical. That’s what you are.” 

“What makes you say that?” Merlin asked, looking as though he was barely holding back the urge to freak out. 

“It’s your clothes.” Arthur felt positively elated. “I never realised before, Merlin. But these clothes…I can see you. You’re magical.” 

“You keep repeating that. Do you mean that in the metaphorical sense?” Merlin’s voice cracked a little. 

Arthur shook his head. “No. I mean…it’s like you’re just so incredible, that you’re almost pure magic. I can see it clearly.” 

Merlin let out an exhale. “Oh. Okay. Um…” 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, butterflies starting to swirl in his stomach, “I’m so glad that Georgia turned out not to be boring at the last minute.” 

That seemed to catch him off guard. “I-what? Why?” 

“Because then I never would’ve been able to look at you properly. Not being able to see this would’ve been awful.” Arthur felt his happiness sober a bit. To know Merlin was incredible in itself. 

Merlin’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “I’m glad you can look at me, sire.” 

Arthur nodded. “I am too.” 

There was a small moment, a fraction of a second, in which they both saw each other. Then, that feeling deep-down that said Arthur would never marry Georgia, or any other person, surged up to the surface. Merlin’s eyes widened the tiniest bit, and he stepped forward. Just a little, but it was enough. 

With just two more steps, Arthur closed the distance. 

Merlin didn’t reciprocate at first, but he realised what was going on rather quickly. Hesitantly, he pressed back into Arthur, wrapping an arm around the prince’s waist. Arthur felt his heart light up with little bursts of electricity. He pushed closer, running a delicate hand through the small hairs at the base of Merlin’s neck. Merlin’s breath hitched, and Arthur could feel his pulse. Feeling that, that knowledge that he was alive and he was here, was like harnessing pure lightning. There was this strange power that seemed to come from Merlin, like a wave of energy that held him fast where he was. It was a bit terrifying, but not enough to make him pull away. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew that it was more Merlin, and that was nothing to fear. 

Merlin broke away, and when Arthur opened his eyes, he could see him smiling at him. The energy was still there, between them, but it felt comforting. 

Arthur leaned his forehead against his. “Purple’s a good look on you.” 

Merlin laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again with a Merthur fic! As per usual, this fic idea came to me in a dream in which Merlin complained about the color white washing him out. Yeah. I took that idea and ran with it, I guess. Anyway, I've spent the last two (three? time isn't real) hours cranking out the last four-ish sections of that, so forgive me if it's totally incomprehensible. No editing, we die like men. Also, I wasn't in the mood to do it. School has started up again and I am absolutely exhausted. So, I am now going to bed. I hope you all enjoy the fic!   
> As always, please leave comments and feedback!


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